


Haunting

by fivedragonsstudios



Category: Klaus (2019)
Genre: Blood, Death, Ghost Jesper, I got inspired by this AU, ghost au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-26
Updated: 2020-01-26
Packaged: 2021-02-27 03:28:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22420333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fivedragonsstudios/pseuds/fivedragonsstudios
Summary: https://chronicsheepdrawing.tumblr.com/ Is the original creator for this AU, their art is awesome!!
Comments: 1
Kudos: 51
Collections: Klaus fic collection





	Haunting

It was a day like any other, the air was crisp, clouds floated by with no promise of snow, at least not this time. It was quiet and Mogens was bored, it was never good to be bored on the island in the middle of the sea. There wasn’t much to distract himself with. Gaze going down the paths, he did catch sight of his most recent target of teasing and altogether making the life miserable of. The postman. An oddity that one, he stuck around even after this town had provided no letters for months now. Any sane person would’ve left by now...he should know because that’s what happened to the other postmen that had been sent their way.

Mogens watched him, the man looked as bored as he felt, lowering the mail doors and glancing inside only because he had to. Looking away, the captain let his gaze drift until it landed on the rope that was attached to the battle bell. Ah, the battle bell, always a source of amusement for Mogens, and he would ring it himself periodically, just to keep everyone on their toes. Now that wasn’t a half-bad idea, and the postman looked like he could use some exercise. Standing up he casually strolled over to the bell and leaned on the post that held the bell up. 

It would be best to wait until the perfect moment. Like when their newest postman was in a spot where the lanky legs he sported wouldn’t provide him with an escape. Mogens already knew the tall man could run, and pretty fast, so he wanted it to be nearly impossible for the blonde male to get away. Scratching his cheek he was ready to wait all day. Patience was a virtue after all. Luckily for him, he didn’t have to wait all day.

Here came the postman, crossing the square to continue on his pointless search for letters. The other man didn’t even seem to notice him. So perhaps this could be more than just exercise, perhaps it could be a bit of a wake-up call for the scrawny man. Mogens took the rope in his hand, and the movement must have registered to the postman because he looked over. Their eyes met for just the barest second, and Mogens watched the boredom that matched his turn to annoyance, then to dread. Mogens winked and then pulled the rope.

Ringing broke the silence and the postman looked like a frozen animal about to bolt before the actual action happened. By then most paths were blocked by the clansmen running to collide in the epicenter of the town. The ferryman didn’t move, he knew this was one of the safest spots to be since no one wanted to risk accidentally ringing the bell again. Scratching his chin with his normal smile in place he just watched the fight unfold and run its course. 

As he watched he never did notice if the postman managed to dodge and weave his way out of the fight. It didn’t matter, he could still tease the man about this later, just on the expression he had caught alone. Mogens could already come up with several new nicknames to use along with the ones he already did. Chuckling to himself he got comfortable and enjoyed the show. Once the dust settled and the clansmen left, he was more than a little surprised to spot a familiar uniform still present.

The postman was on the ground and wasn’t moving even after it would be safe to do so. Mogens moved, heading towards the postman. Once he was close enough he could see something sticking out of the postman’s back. Oh, so he wasn’t moving because he likely couldn’t move. The postman was facing down, so Mogens couldn’t see the other man’s face. “Wow, that one really roughed you up, huh?” The wound looked unpleasant, to say the least, and he couldn’t tell how deep the weapon still lodged in went. “Hey, sport?” The postman was still quiet and wasn’t moving still. He was starting to dislike this. 

Mogens moved and decided that maybe he could at least try to remove that weapon. He lowered himself to the ground and hesitated before taking hold of the item lodged into the postman. Felt like part of a handle to a spear...or a harpoon. He gave a small yank, not expecting any resistance. The whole body moved and he let go fast. Still no movement or sound was coming from the postman. Absolutely no movement. 

Mogens stared, eyes seeing, but mind refusing to believe. Slowly he took hold of the thin arm and pushed the postman to roll the other man to his side. “Oh god…” The pole was more than a little lodged into the postman, he was looking right at the sharp end of a harpoon sticking from the thin chest, the blade covered in blood. His breakfast threatened to evacuate from his stomach, and he covered his mouth. Sure he had seen plenty of death on this island...but he hadn’t really been the direct cause of any of those.

Mogens didn’t want to look at the face, but he slowly did anyways. The too-vacant gaze confirmed what he already knew. Tears were drying in the cold air, and a line of blood was coming from the postman’s mouth. Looking away he stood and wondered what he should do...what could he do? The man had to be buried for one… God, he didn’t even know this postman’s name. News had to be sent to the Royal Postal Academy for two. Was it all up to him? Looking around, he didn’t see anyone else. Rubbing the back of his neck he moved away to report the body.  
\---  
The funeral ended up being the easy part. Even though the postman was an outsider, he was buried in the cemetery with no plague, just a simple marker to show where the body was. Writing a letter...he had to seal and stamp it, and the only supplies to do that were in the post office. Mogens really didn’t want to go in there… What other choice did he have though? The academy needed to know what had happened. The postman must have family that would miss him right?

Sighing he made the trip up there, feeling colder by the second, and not just because of the temperature. Once at the post office he stood outside, still on the fence about entering at all. If he didn’t do this, who else would bother? He felt just guilty enough to try. So he moved and entered the post office, and was met with silence. The chickens had run to town, spooked away by something. Maybe some wild dog or cat… Mogens went to the counter and grabbed some paper and an envelope. 

What he wrote wasn’t anything fancy, just the news of what had happened without exact details. He felt a chill go down his spine as he folded the letter and put it in the envelope. The action made old memories threaten to rise up, but he refused to address them right now. Sealing the envelope he then added the stamp. Then he put the address of the Royal Academy on the front. Did he need a return address for this sort of thing? Frowning he sighed and added just the town name and then stood straight from the counter. Looking towards the exit he jumped with a sudden cold pit forming in his stomach. 

There in front of him was the postman...or rather, what was left of him. Just a visage that stared at him, blank of emotion, and still sporting the wound that had ended his life. A ghost… Their eyes met and the barest change came to the eyes of the ghost in front of him. Mogens could sense the accusation present there, the knowledge of who had caused his current state. Mogens moved, putting the letter in his pocket and heading to the exit. 

He was watched as he moved to leave, the ghost staring at him and making his guilt feel like a physical thing. No wonder the chickens had taken their leave from this place. “You killed me” Mogens froze and looked at the apparition nervously. “You killed me. You killed me. You killed me.” Mogens backed away, still seeking the way out of the building. The ghost just kept repeating the same thing, looking more upset by the second. Mogens found the door with his back.

He fumbled for the knob and the ghost lunged at him with an angry yell. Finally, the door opened and he stumbled backward, even falling to his ass in his hurry to flee “YOU KILLED ME!!!!” Mogens got up and ran, not even looking back, just wanting to get the hell away from the post office, and for the ghost that now resided in it. He could only hope that he would never have to go back.


End file.
